Glass Tears
by Jesus Christ Superstar
Summary: Just one of the many ideas I came up for the reasons why Bellatrix hates Sirius so much… Quite depressing, and more of a project to allow me to try out my description “talents”. Please read and review?


**Author's Note**: _Don't like Bellatrix/Sirius, don't read. However, for those that go "OMG! They're COUSINS!", I have this to say: The Pureblooded families were so thin, it wasn't unusual for them to marry their cousins. It's like royalty. There are only so many royals._

**Disclaimer**: _I own none of the characters, and I am making absolutely no money off of this publication. This is only for my own joy, and the joy of others._

**Summary:** _Er… Just a small ficlet that I came up with the idea for. I thought you'd like it. It's kinda cute, not the usual Bellatrix/Sirius raunchiness._

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"I heard your mother hasn't been in the best of moods," Bellatrix smiled across the chessboard at her cousin, his dark brows pulled together as he surveyed the board. His pawns had all been moved, and though he was not missing a single piece, his king was already in a small bit of a corner. His fingers drummed upon his knee- his black slacks wrinkled, and, like his hair, seemed to possess elegance in the wrinkle that would hamper the appearance of any other. His black locks fell about his face, layered, and windswept from the summer breeze.

Today was positively brilliant- the sun, though hot, was glittering, creating a warm embrace that, for once, Bellatrix revelled and fell into lovingly. Her own black hair, the shade of Sirius', was pulled back into a bun, and twisted up, the black coils glittering in the sunlight underneath the small sun-umbrella that she had balanced against her chair. The summer grass bent in accordance with the wind, curling and waving as if it was greeting the pastel blue sky- lazy white clouds floating across, sailing, as if they were on a voyage to some end of the world that none yet knew about. A pilgrimage to the end of the sidewalks, where the couples of the world leapt into love. To fall in love… to fall into the sweet kisses, and lean upon the soft skin of the one you love… It was something that most who knew Bellatrix could not fathom her doing.

She was a cold person- a harlot, which most would have difficulty rivalling. She had slept with as many boys that Hogwarts had to offer, and more- she had kissed many a boy in a broom closet, away from the prying eyes of the caretaker, and the professors. McGonagall's office had yet to know a position that Bellatrix couldn't achieve… Yet, she was a lady when she was around the young man who sat across from her, his fingers easily grasping the knight piece he had decided to move. Grey eyes looked up into her brown as he smirked, "Check."

"Not quite," she replied effortlessly, easily rearranging a pawn in order to cover her king. Her brows arched over her glittering orbs. Manicured nails shimmered in the sunlight, and the silken hem of her sleeve danced across her smooth, creamy skin as she pulled her hand gracefully away from the pieces. For but a moment, she thought she saw his eyes leave hers to study her hand- and a flicker of want spread through her own dark gaze. But, that was all that passed between them. A shift in her seat, and she crossed her legs the opposite way, eyes lowering as she straightened the wrinkles from her dark blue skirt. The pale colour of her hands stood against the blue like a snowflake on Sirius' hair… light against black… good versus evil… Suddenly, she found herself looking away- she wished not to bother herself with this feeling that had grown and blossomed deep within her heart over the course of years that she had known him…

"Yes. Mother's being a pain, indeed," his words interrupted her thoughts, and she turned back to him- dark lashes curving on his olive-toned cheeks as he looked down to the chessboard, "I left home. I'm living with James, now." That was why they were not playing wizard chess. He had no access to Mister and Misses Black's chessboard… He had brought his own, which was James'. Which was, obviously, a Mudblood's board. But, it didn't matter. She didn't care. She was with her Sirius.

"Your mother… has the foulest temper I have ever seen. Check," she had again cornered his king, but this time with her bishop. The curve of her red lips held his eyes for longer than she thought she had ever seen him stare at her before… His hair fell lazily over his brow, and she wished to lean forward, and kiss it away- but she knew she should dare not. If her mother… her sisters… If they saw… They would know by now that Sirius had been outcast by her aunt and uncle- they wouldn't approve. But, as she met his grey gaze again, she figured fuck what they thought. She reached across the chessboard, her fingers glazing his brow as she easily pushed back the few locks that had come between his grey gaze and her own brown. She felt her breath catch in her throat, though she refused to make a scene from this- he had caused her breathing to falter before… one too many times before. Her smile, however, faded once she scanned his neck, looking down at his own white button-up shirt to note that it was not rising and falling.

His own hand came up to catch hers, and she looked into his eyes- her brows arched not out of disappointment or disapproval, but out of shock. When had he dared to touch her in such a way? His fingers intertwined with hers, and he drew her hand down to his mouth- his lips glazed her skin, turning her soft skin into gooseflesh. His eyes closed, long charcoal lashes brushing against her fingers, and she closed her own eyes. The darkness of her eyelids was the only thing that could ever stop the world from seeing the glitter of satisfaction that raced through the chocolate of her irises. She felt him pull her closer- her back curving to lean over the chessboard, then, and she opened her eyes to look into his, "Sirius… I… You… We…"

"Checkmate," he whispered, and the mood was shattered. Her brow arched, and her dark eyes looked down at the pieces on the board. Sure enough, there it was. Her king cornered, by one of his silly knights. But, that didn't remain so for long. With a shift in his seat, he had pulled himself closer to her, his grip unrelenting on her hand- his left hand, then, reached up, placing itself on her shoulders. Her eyes, however, refused to leave the board. Her gaze studied each piece trying to remember where and when she had misplaced her own king. When she had basically forfeited to Sirius… then she realised, that was a long, long time ago. She looked back to him, reaching down and using her free hand to sweep the chess pieces to the ground, leaning over the small coffee table that they had set up for their game.

Her lips brushed against his, and she felt his breath against her cheeks, moist, slow, and hot, caressing her skin as if her porcelain face was made for his mouth alone. His eyes were not yet closed, silver eyes watching and making sure that he did all correctly, the tempting of her lips against his, the necessary distance until she wrapped her free arm around his neck, pulling him towards her. That was when he closed his eyes. The silver irises only seeing the dull red of the back of his eyelids; he fell backwards, feeling her shift her position so that she fell atop him, the table falling to the side with the forgotten chessboard.

Her fingers slid free from his grasp as his hands slid down her back, discovering her figure in moment's lust. Her silk shirt was easily pulled from her skirt, his slender hands rolling now, over her naked skin. Her graceful hands fumbled over his shirt, trying to undo each of the buttons that was the only defence of his chest against her lips- her annoyance towards the crystal knobs growing to the point where she gripped the shirt and ripped it open. Each small crystal button popped off with the force of her pull- bounding across the green, summertime lawns, nestling away to be found decades from this moment by fate. Her red-painted lips left his own, kissing graciously over his neck and down his chest.

Sirius' hands left her back, leaving her bra forgotten, and still strapped as he moved their attention to her hair- his fingers pulled back her head, forcing her brown eyes to look into his own, "Bellatrix… We… I…"

Her brows pulled together in confusion- her fingers sliding up his bare chest to twirl a lock of his black hair, lips with smudged lipstick curving into a sly smirk, "Yes? I bet none of those silly Gryffindors have kissed you like-"

"-Bellatrix… This won't work. Listen to me. Look at us!" He sat up, his fingers leaving her, now tousled, bun to grip her shoulders and pull her against him. He leaned over, his lips pressing against her forehead as if he were kissing a child that had misbehaved without realisation of its acts… It hurt her more than a slap ever would- more than a kick, a burn, a scrape, a cut… "Your parents wouldn't approve… I'd be… I'd be disowned by the Potters. Do you understand? If we were to do this… What if you would become with child…? This is a risk, Bellatrix, more than a satisfaction."

It was as if she felt her heart shatter then. As if Sirius had picked up a stone, took aim at the stain glass window that looked into her soul, and threw. She heard the crush in her ears- she felt it fall around her. She saw her window fall from its frame in her temple… She had waited so long for his arms to be around her. So long. She had loved him so much. So much. She felt him as if he were a ghost. As if he were dead- clammy and cold. She felt her world darken… Oh, how dare he play with her in such a way? She wanted to struggle- she wanted to break away… but she couldn't move. She couldn't open her mouth. She could only look up into his eyes and realise how much she loved him- how much she hated him; how much she wanted to kiss him- how she wanted to curse him; how she wanted to feel her bare skin against his- how she wanted to scrub, and wash every memory of him from her…

He reached up, tucking one of her unruly locks behind her ears, "Bellatrix… I… I'm so sorry. I led you on, I goaded you- I… I wanted to feel you. I wanted to hold you… But it can never work- you must understand this. Please, my love? Do you-"

"Get your hands off of me, you filthy dog! Don't touch me! Don't talk to me! You're a curse! You're a curse to this family!" She sobbed, her mind finally awake, though she felt numb. She jerked away from him, kicking and sobbing, screaming out for redemption from this moment. To go back to where she was in his arms, and hold him; to pretend he never said anything like what he whispered into her ear. And as she tried to crawl away, her skirt tangling around her legs, and her nails digging into the ground, he reached around, grabbing her waist and attempting to hold her back. He wanted her with him, he wanted to hold her, to comfort her- but couldn't he see? His voice was never going to soothe her. His touch would never wipe away any pain she may have had- it would only cause more. She kicked him, and she felt his recoil, a groan escaping his lips, "I hate you, Sirius Black! I hate you with my heart and soul! Leave me alone! Oh, God, leave me alone…"

Bellatrix felt her heart collapse, and she felt her arms give way. Her face laid down on the soft grass, the moist ground of summer, the spicy scents of a hinting autumn twisting in her nostrils. Her eyes closed, tears falling from her lashes, and supplying the damp, cool earth with more water. She wanted to fade from this. She wanted to fade from his arms… To fade from his soul. For too long she had loved him, only for him to show her affection and lust back and to take it all back in a moment. A heartbeat. A flutter of his lashes. She heard him stand- she heard him walk around her, collecting the pieces from the chessboard, and felt him kneel beside her. Through her closed eyes, she imagined his hand floating inches above her shaking shoulders, and how she wanted to lean up and meet it. She couldn't. She couldn't feel her arms…

And he left. Each footfall of his echoed though the earth to her ears. It shuddered her form; it racked her body of any innocence that she had reserved for him. It took away her soul. It sent her to hell… The numbness started to dwindle, started to fade, and she looked up. Her eyes opening, her breathing no longer ragged sobs, but soft and trembling. She sat up, reaching out for him as he rounded the side of the Black Manor- the chessboard folded under his arm, "Sirius!" Her voice came out in a whisper…

She could not find volume- and, again she cried his name. She screamed- but her voice did not come. Her yells went unheard. Her eyes widened in fear, and fought against more tears that warmed and tickled the back of her eyes- she reached up, grasping her throat, "SIRIUS! God, NO!" She couldn't force out more than a hiss of her luxurious voice that most men thought was a gift straight from heaven. She couldn't call out to him… She couldn't tell him that she forgave him… She couldn't tell him…

It was his fault… All his fault. He hurt her. He didn't listen. He left. This didn't hurt him… This didn't make him scream in agony- this treachery against his family… How dare he leave her? How dare he…

And she stood, gathering up her skirts, her chin held high. Her shoes sank into the wet ground as she walked back up towards her home- unaware that one of the glass buttons was pushed deep into the earth by her heel.


End file.
